Sweet Surrender Series
by Kimberley Jackson
Summary: Sam/Jack Romance. Series of Short Stories. On an undercover mission, things start to get slightly out of hand... WARNING: Mild D/s with soft sexual innuendo - probably will get censored in later parts, due to rating restrictions. Full versions on my website.
1. Surrender

Sweet Surrender Series 1 - Surrender

„She's mine."

Sam Carter's eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and disbelief at the blunt, curt statement, that effectively prevented her from giving the man who had so audaciously grabbed her behind an outraged speech and breaking his arm.

Jack O'Neill had uttered the words with security and absolute calmness in his voice. It was outrageous; on so many different levels outrageous and line-crossing to even remotely play along with this little game; even if it was only to uphold their cover; even if it was only to protect her.

Her head shot around to look at the tall, handsome man standing next to her, who did not only happen to be the man that she held feelings for, but was also her superior officer. Everything about him signaled authority and control: from his stance up to the way he was looking at the security guard as he voiced his claim on her.

Self-securely and possessively, he moved his hand around her waist, feeling her muscles twitch under his hand at the shock of the sudden touch. The thin fabric of the black dress that she was wearing for the occasion did nothing to hide her reaction from him.

Sam opened her mouth to voice some kind of protest – more because she felt she had to, than because she actually wanted to – but before she had the chance to make a sound, he had turned around to face her and pulled her hard against his chest. She gasped when her smaller body impacted with his and held her breath, completely overwhelmed by his sudden closeness. She smelled the frail hint of aftershave that was still lingering on his skin and mixing with his own unique scent, and with every fiber of her being, she felt the warmth that was radiating from his body.

A soft shudder that she failed to suppress went through her, and she looked up at his face, completely bewildered at the ardency of her body's reaction to him. Time was relative; it had to be. There was no other explanation for how it seemed to slow down when every single one of his touches became more intense all of a sudden: the way his arms ran across the side of her body, along her waist, and held her firmly in place with his thumbs gently stroking her; and how he then used one of his hands to tilt her head up so that she was looking at him.

His eyes met hers for a little eternity, and she believed to read an apology in them – and the relentless order to play along. It didn't matter, for before she was even able to grasp any conscious thought that would have enabled her to protest, he had closed her mouth with his.

There was nothing tender about the kiss. It was nothing like she had imagined their first kiss to be – if it ever was to happen – in those sleepless nights when she indulged in forbidden little fantasies about her CO. It wasn't soft, or tentative – or awkward.

His lips were relentlessly moving over hers, claiming her as his, teasing her, taunting her and playing with her at the same time as if he had never done anything else in his life. He knew exactly what he wanted – and he knew exactly how to make her want him give it to him. The kiss wasn't soft – but it was more seductive, more thrilling than she could have ever imagined in her mind.

She gasped in surprise when need hit her almost instantly, and an all-too-long forgotten feeling of pure lust started to pool in her abdomen at his almost primal possession of her body. It was overwhelming and so unexpected that she didn't stand a chance to control it. In fact, she didn't recall ever reacting this passionately to something like a simple kiss. Damn, this man had game; she had to give him that.

He took the chance that offered itself to him by her little gasp to slip his tongue into her mouth, probably a little surprised by her compliance and willing surrender.

An involuntary sigh escaped Sam's lips followed by a whimper, and she moved her hands up to fist them in the material of the black shirt he was wearing, wordlessly, yet desperately, begging him to let her go before her body and mind spun out of control. Simultaneously, the rest of her body urged him on, wanting so much more.

His hands were on hers almost instantly, his thumbs brushing gently over the delicate skin of her hands and her pulse point, before he closed his fingers around her wrists firmly, and pulled her arms away from his chest behind her back, holding them there while at the same time pressing her now helpless body fully against his own.

Sam closed her eyes, when she felt her chest so intimately crushed against his, and opened her mouth wider to welcome his exploring tongue.

It wasn't that she couldn't have freed herself. It wasn't that she couldn't have put him in his place. She knew that. And so did he. All that she would have needed to do was pull out of his grasp forcefully and ask him, in the most professional tone she was capable of, what the hell he thought he was doing.

For a brief moment, he broke the kiss, and he studied her face, taking note of her half-closed eyes, of the way her breathing was coming just a hint faster than normal, of how she unconsciously ran her tongue over her lips – and of how she, almost unnoticeably, moved her head closer to his to seek his lips anew, with only the firm grasp that he had on her arms preventing her from being able to do so.

This was his game. He was in control – and he was curious to see whether she would let him be. Over the years that they had worked together, they had perfected the art of communicating without words; and the feelings that they held for each other and that they had decided to lock up in that room contributed to this ability. Therefore he was certain that she understood the implication of the choice that he was giving her now. The question was just whether she would go along with it.

Sam looked up into his deep, chocolate brown eyes, and then she did something that she knew was outrageous given their ranks and there working relationship, even though it was barely visible to the bystanders. She averted her eyes from his, lowered them to his lips, and signaled her submission by whispering the word "Sir" in the most desperate, needy way that he had ever heard any woman use it.

For a moment he seemed to lose control, staring at her completely bewildered and at the same time intrigued by her complete surrender. Sure, his eyes had challenged her to do just this, but not even in his wildest dreams had he considered the possibility that she might actually agree to it. Not her. Not his kickass, "do we need to arm wrestle?", 2IC Carter. Well, this was definitely going to be interesting…

Almost immediately, his lips were back on hers, this time roughly claiming what she had just so willingly offered him, pleased when a helpless little moan left her lips and died in his mouth.

She twisted her hands in his secure grip, wanting desperately to touch him, feel him, and pull him closer against her; wanting to move her fingers through his short, graying hair while they fiercely explored each other's lips; wanting for a moment to challenge the dominance that he held over her – if only for the reason to make him submit her anew.

And he did. Firmly, he twisted her arms up, just enough to render her completely helpless, but not enough to hurt her. He knew exactly, what he was doing, she realized with a mixture of thrill and intimidation. And he was good at it. Way too good.

It was what made him so dangerous. It was what made her want him with a passion that was beyond anything that she had ever felt for any other man.

He softened the kiss ever so slightly; an act unnoticeable for bystanders, but she noticed the change immediately. A soft whimper escaped her lips, a wordless plea for him to give her more.

She had a hard time hiding her disappointment, when he unexpectedly broke the kiss and released her arms. This was neither the place nor the time to fully explore whatever it was that she had just allowed him to open a door to. His eyes met hers in what had to be the most intense, sexy look that she had ever seen from him, before he turned to the two security guards in front of them again, his arms still very possessively around the young woman's waist.

"As I said, she belongs to me."

Gruffly, the security guard looked at Sam, and then his eyes moved back to Jack before he nodded. "Alright… but keep your slave under control from now on. If she shows that kind of disrespect again, she will be punished."

"She won't, I assure you."

In retrospect, Sam knew the whole situation had been so far beyond the line of what would have been appropriate that the line wasn't even anywhere in sight anymore. True, it was for the sake of uncovering a Goa'uld who was living undercover on Earth still (apparently Seth was far from being the only one). And they had finished the mission with excellence, managed to capture Min and handed him over to the Tok'ra.

Still, there had been the kiss – and the short moment of absolute surrender on her part – and they had both known that they couldn't just step back from that, lock it in a room and forget about it; not with the way he had drawn out the kiss to make sure that she was fully and completely submitting herself to him. And especially not in the light of how completely she had given in to his demand. It had been more than just for the sake of their cover, and they both knew it.

That wasn't what disturbed her most. She was used to receiving orders and following them to the letter; but none of them had ever been of a personal – let alone sexual – nature. And yet the ease with which she had received her CO's orders that night had felt so natural that it was deeply unsettling and unbelievably promising at the same time.

Sam had never considered herself to be a weak woman. On the contrary, she knew she was considered somewhat of a feminist who didn't hesitate to put any guy who dared to question her abilities into place.

It was not that she was passionately fighting for women's rights and demonstrating on the streets for the cause. It was just something that came along with being a female soldier in an army which was still largely considered a man's club. She had learned to fight her way through, out of necessity. Therefore some people considered her feminist, although she herself didn't think she was. All she did was demand to be treated with the same respect that every other male soldier deserved.

But she was also well aware of the fact that she wasn't weak. She was independent, strong and knew what she wanted and how to go after it.

All the more surprising was it for her to realize how thrilled she had been by the experience of being completely dominated by a man. And not just any man, her commanding officer of all people.

Like a lot of other people, she had read about the BDSM clubs, read about the lifestyle in scandalous little newspaper articles, and had always thought somewhat condescendingly about women who willingly submitted themselves to a man, and allowed him total control. Never once had it crossed her mind that it might be something that she herself might find unbelievably exciting.

And least of all, that she would find out about that secret little desire on a mission with her commanding officer!

Nothing had happened between them - except for the kiss. O'Neill had kept his distance from her after that and simply demanded her to follow his orders to the letter. And for some reason, she had made sure that she did just that even more thoroughly than usual. She was sure that he had noticed, for, every now and then their eyes had met, and he had given her this intense, sexy and very predatory look.

And yet, afterwards, she hadn't been able to look at him, because she was embarrassed by her willingness to slip into the role and the ease with which she managed to do so. She noticed that, during the mission briefing, when Daniel was giving his long, drawn-out report about the Goa'uld Min's history on Earth, Jack's eyes were searching hers repeatedly, but she always averted her eyes. Yet, she could feel his eyes resting on her over and over again, and that fact alone made her nervous.

She was scared of what he was thinking of her; of losing his respect; or worse, of him reporting the entire incident and effectively ending their careers. All the more it shocked her, when, suddenly, he had moved a little piece of paper over to her. Since he was constantly scribbling and not paying attention during meetings, his behavior didn't even struck anybody as particularly unusual.

Sam took the paper with her fingers, and glanced down at it. It read: "Look at me. That's an order."

For a moment she held her breath, completely put off by the contents of the paper. What the hell was he thinking? Such an order was completely out of line and he had to be aware of that. On the other hand, it also shot a jolt of excitement through her body. Sam shifted uncomfortably, just very slightly, barely noticeably; except that he noticed with a hint of satisfaction that he hid behind his typical façade of indifference.

Sam looked up, pretending to listen to what Daniel was saying, before she finally scribbled her answer down under the words that he had written, "What if I don't?"

She deliberately didn't use the word "Sir", partly because she wanted to challenge him, but also because as the situation was, she wanted to remain as neutral as possible until she was absolutely sure of his intentions.

Then she moved the paper back over to his side, clearing her throat slightly awkwardly. This was a dangerous game they were playing. Hammond was sitting right across the table from them, and at any moment Daniel could ask her some profound question about the science of what he was talking about – and at this point her mind was so pre-occupied with a lot more pleasurable thoughts that she would probably be reduced to one- or two-syllable words.

Out of the corners of her eyes, she could see Jack read her words, and raise his eyebrows. Then the hint of a smirk played around the corners of his lips, and he pretended to scribble again, before he turned the paper around slightly so that she could read his words.

"Then the game's over and we forget about it. Your choice."

Her choice. Sam swallowed hard and looked up to pretend to listen to Daniel again, even though her heart was definitely not in it anymore.

Had he just made her an offer? A very inappropriate, very dangerous, but nonetheless very erotic and absolutely thrilling offer? Oh, this was so wrong that she shouldn't even consider it, she scolded herself.

And yet, she couldn't help but look down at his written words again, and remember the way he had kissed her and how she had responded in kind, so intuitively as if they had never done anything else. She wanted more. She wanted to explore this side of herself, and even more importantly, she wanted him to explore that side with her. The situation held the potential of going very horribly wrong, she knew that – or it could turn out to be the very best decision of her life.

Sam could sense that O'Neill was shifting nervously in the chair next to hair. They both knew that with this little sheet of paper she could have his ass for sexual harassment – and although she had responded willingly to his kisses in the club, he had to be more than uncertain about her reaction to this very direct, written-down offer to break one of the most important rules of the Air Force.

Sam wrote her answer on the little piece of paper, and for a moment considered just crumbling it up, and ending their little game there and then, before things got out of control. But then she pushed it over to his side, closing her eyes slightly when he took it. It read only two words: "Yes, Sir."

He raised his eyebrows in complete and utter astonishment, and was wide awake in an instant, his body straightening out slightly when the implication of her writing became clear to him. Carefully, he leaned forward, folded the paper up and put it in his back-pocket, just so that it wouldn't accidentally fall into someone else's hands. Then he turned his head to look at her, his standing order from before still in the room. And slowly, almost shyly, she turned her head as well… and met his eyes.

End (Nov 13, 2013)


	2. Submission

Submission

It had started out slowly – almost innocently. In retrospect, Sam couldn't believe that she had actually agreed to go along with everything.

After her initial doubts, and the mission briefing, out of which she had almost fled, Jack had followed her to her lab, casually asking for some kind of report (that she knew he'd never read anyway), before he had eventually asked her "What are you doing on Friday evening?"

At first she had been so put off by the direct question that she had merely stared at him for full 5 seconds. It was only when he had raised his eyebrows, and asked "Carter?" in a very demanding voice, that she had snapped out of it.

The truth was, she didn't have any plans – not if you didn't count renting some movie and spending the evening alone on the couch to be a plan anyway – and so they had agreed that he would come to pick her up at 8.

And so he had. Sam had been somewhat nervous. It had been completely different in the club, where the situation had built up to a sexually charged atmosphere between them and ended in a very arousing kiss – as opposed to now, where it seemed to be all about planning their strategies ahead. And their little date had definitely felt like strategic planning.

But as it turned out, all Jack wanted that evening was talk. He took her out to a nice little restaurant for pizza and beer, and, after some superficial small-talk about work, unceremoniously dove into the subject. She had always appreciated his directness – and it helped to ease the situation then, for he managed to make it sound like a casual conversation.

"Do you trust me?"

The question had been hanging in the air between them, and for a moment, Sam had had a hard time breathing when she met his sexy, intense stare, and saw the way with which his eyes were scanning her appearance: in a mixture of absolute adoration and a distinct relentless control. She had realized that he expected an answer to something and looked at him completely clueless.

"What?"

"Sam…" He had definitely had her attention then when he used her forename in that very intimate, almost gentle way. "It's not that hard of a question to answer…"

"Trust you… Sir?" Her voice had been shaky and she had realized that she was not giving her intelligence any credit by dumbly repeating his question. But for a moment, the sheer intensity of it all had overwhelmed her, and she had a hard time to stop herself from turning around and running out the door again.

"Yeah…" he had affirmed, quite obviously amused by her very uncharacteristic dullness. Sam Carter lost for words: that was definitely something…

"Absolutely... Sir. Otherwise I don't think we'd still be working on the same team together."

"Good point – but I actually didn't mean in the field." His response had been casual, and then, while keeping a close eye on her, he took a sip of his drink.

"I do trust you," Sam affirmed again after a short moment, holding his eyes while she did so. He had been satisfied with her answer, and then started talking about how to proceed from that point on. Nothing of what they did on Friday evenings would ever interfere with their work – nor would they let the two parts of their lives mix, that much they had agreed on. Jack had assured her, that he would never ask sexual favors of her while they were in a workplace environment. And so they had been on safe grounds.

Since Sam had never done anything remotely connected to submission before, they had started talking about hard limits (albeit rather awkwardly). Eventually, they had agreed that they would find out about her soft limits as they went along. Sam had made clear however, that she was not okay with anything involving pain – first and foremost because it turned her off, and secondly, because she was concerned about how to explain possibly resulting injuries to the base doctors in their regular physical exams.

Jack had agreed, and assured her that he really wasn't into inflicting pain either – although he would have considered doing it if she had been really into it. Deep inside he was glad, that this was not the turn their little game would be taking.

He knew this entire scenario was wrong, given their working relationship and the fact that he commanded her in the field – and maybe the desire to submit her sexually owed its existence to just those years of fantasizing about ordering her to do sexual things instead; he really wanted to explore the control component of their relationship.

And apparently that was what she was after too.

Oh yeah, Freud would have definitely had fun analyzing them…

Eventually they had agreed to meet up one week after that at Jack's house, and parted. There had been no kiss or touches of any kind – if one didn't count the occasional hand-on-waist touches of course.

Therefore Sam felt almost insecure, when, one week later, she was standing in the middle of Jack's living room, and waited for him to return from the kitchen with the beer he had offered to her.

He smiled at her gently when he returned and handed her the cold bottle. Sam took a huge sip of the cold, bitter liquid, not caring for whether he thought she was nervous or not. She needed some alcohol to get rid of the tension that was spreading through her body.

She couldn't believe they were actually doing this. And she had no idea what to expect – she of all people. The one person, who was constantly planning ahead, analyzing, strategizing and calculating the outcome of situations or actions, was absolutely clueless about how this would turn out. It was both frightening and absolutely thrilling for her.

Jack didn't give her a clue about what he was planning – and therefore withheld the necessary data from her brains, that she needed to overthink. Smart man.

Sam looked at him. He looked no different from usual: cargo pants and a dark grey, button-less shirt. Nervously, she took another sip of her beer. Oh, yes, she was definitely overdressed in her leather pants and the white blouse. Not to mention the make-up. She started to feel a little bit stupid.

As if he was reading her thoughts, Jack smiled at her, while he sat down, "You look amazing."

"Thanks… Sir. I feel overdressed." Sam replied, looking around mildly lost. She had no idea what to do – or what he wanted her to do; or whether they were playing yet or not.

Jack smirked at her obvious nervousness, and bit down a comment about how they could take care of her feeling overdressed. He really wanted to take it slow today, and ease them both into the relationship – and ordering her to drop her clothes would hardly serve the point.

So, after a moment, he put his beer on the glass table in front of him and leaned back on the couch. "I want you to seduce me."

She almost choked on the sip of beer she had just taken, and stared at him wide-eyedly. "Sir?"

"Seduce me, Car… Sam." Oh, almost slip-up. He really had to remember calling her Sam in this context – just to draw a clear line between their working relationship and this little exploration.

"Seduce you how, Sir?"

"Surprise me." He looked at her expectantly.

"Okay…" Sam replied insecurely and for a moment just stood there, her face looking like she was meticulously planning one of her little experiments in the lab.

"Problem?" Jack asked with raised eyebrows, when she didn't move.

"No, Sir… I'm just trying to think of a way to…"

"Oh fer crying outloud, quit planning. Just go with the flow." Jack replied. "I wanna feel it – not feel like I'm going through a mission briefing."

Sam had to bite down a little smile, and then put her bottle down on the table. "Sorry, Sir." Seduce him – that shouldn't be too hard, considering that she knew he was into her already. And besides, it wasn't like she hadn't seduced men before; just never her commanding officer.

No, she scolded herself inwardly. He was not her commanding officer here. He was Jack. They had agreed on drawing a distinct line. Sure, she'd still have to call him Sir, but she had to stop thinking of him as her superior officer or the lines would become blurry.

Slowly, she walked towards the couch where he was sitting, holding his eyes. His interest grew with every step that she took towards him. He expected her to sit down next to him, but she surprised him when she moved to straddle him with her legs resting on either side of him on the soft surface of the couch.

She was very careful about keeping body contact to a minimum still, and her kneeling position allowed her to hold her hips just above his thighs without really touching yet.

Her head was hovering slightly above his now, and he had to look up slightly to meet her eyes. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, and then slowly made their way up to his neck when she leaned in to brush her lips against his in an almost non-existent, tentative first touch.

Oh, this was thrilling. She definitely had game, he thought quietly, when her soft, female scent engulfed him, and he had to suppress the need to pull her hips into full contact with his. He wanted her. He had wanted her the moment she had walked through the front door – but today was not about physical lust yet, but about slowly easing them both into the game, so had to keep his feelings in check.

Sam moved her head back and looked at him somewhat insecurely. "Aren't you going to touch me?"

He couldn't help but smirk. "I will… if I feel you deserve it. But you have to put a little more effort into it. At the moment I'm not feeling it yet…" He saw a spark of challenge flicker in her eyes, and smirked. Oh, yes, this was definitely going to get interesting. She was feisty – to the point of insubordinate – even in the field; and while he allowed her to slip up at work (mainly because she was smarter than him, and she was usually right), he did absolutely not intend to show her the same courtesy here. However, that was what would make their little games interesting. A submissive who was 100% obedient was no fun, for neither dominant nor submissive.

Sam gently pushed him back to lie against the back of the couch, his head resting comfortably against it, before she moved in and firmly placed her lips on his. The touch made them both shudder slightly with the expectation of what was to come.

The young woman opened her lips to gently run her tongue along his lips, tempting him to open his mouth and allowing her to deepen the kiss. He didn't relent; however, he started kissing her back. She was good; he had to give her that. Seductively, she used her lips, tongue and teeth to run them along his own lips, tease him, and nip gently at his lower lip while her hands were grazing the skin of his neck in butterfly touches, before, every now and then moving along his shoulders and clasping them through the material of his shirt.

Finally, after endless moments, Jack moved his hands up to first rest on her upper thighs, and then run along her endlessly long legs up to rest on the apex of her thighs, his fingers moving under the hem of her blouse.

Sam sighed softly, when she finally felt him touch her, and Jack rewarded her by opening his mouth to her insistent explorations, allowing her to fully engage him in an open-mouthed kiss. And so she did; fervently, almost desperately, seeking out his tongue in a tender battle for dominance and submission, until they were both breathless.

They broke the kiss, and when their eyes met, Sam looked at him somewhat smugly. Okay, this was definitely against the rules, he decided. She was way too cocky, and seemed to be under the false impression that by asking her to seduce him, she had become the dominant one. It was time to change that.

He held her eyes sexily, dangerously, darkly, while he moved one of his hands from her hips up along her back. His fingers followed the contour of her spine up her neck into her short hair, and once they had reached their goal, he fisted his hands in her hair and pulled her head back, gently but with a firmness that didn't allow for disobedience.

Sam gasped, when she felt his lips on her chin, which then moved seductively down her throat. Testing whether she would follow his wordless command, Jack let go of her hair. She kept her head in place, exposing her neck to him and he smiled appreciatively.

Determinedly, he moved both of his hands to the first button of her blouse, right under her collarbone, and opened it. Sam's breathing hitched slightly in her throat, but she kept her head in place and her neck completely exposed.

Jack waited a moment, drawing out the suspense, while at the same time admiring the milky skin he was revealing under the fabric, before he opened the next button; then the one after that, until he had reached the last one and could push the material out of the way.

Appreciatively, he ran the back of his hand along the skin of her neck, down over her collarbone, and along her cleavage. She was wearing a white tank top and a bra underneath, so his access was still rather limited, but it was enough for him for now.

His eyes took in her beautifully freckled skin and he leaned forward to place his lips against the base of her throat, before he ran his tongue down to her collarbone, tasting her skin and eliciting a barely audible whimper from her. He smiled against her skin and then gently tugged at the sides of her open blouse.

"Off," he rasped against her skin with authority in his voice and she moved away from him slightly to obey and pull the blouse off. She discarded it onto the couch next to them, and then looked down into his eyes again which were staring at her somewhat expectantly.

"I might be mistaken," he eventually started, when she didn't give any indication that she was about to say something, and leaned in to brush his lips along her jawline to her ear, "but isn't an order usually acknowledged by the words 'Yes' and 'Sir'."

"Yes, Sir… sorry, Sir." Sam replied breathlessly. "Won't happen again."

"It better not," he affirmed. Leaving the possible consequences up for her own imagination, he instead dedicated his efforts back to exploring her skin and ran his lips down the soft skin of her chest to her breast.

He froze, when suddenly her hands ran from his shoulders to his hair, and ever so slightly urging him on to where she wanted him. Instantly, his hands moved to her hips, firmly holding her in place while he withdrew from her skin all together.

Confused, she looked down at him.

"Hands on my shoulder, Sam. Don't move them again, and don't you ever try to guide my movements again. You are not the one in control, here… understood?"

"Y-yes Sir," Sam replied shakily, moving her hands back to his shoulders. "I didn't mean to… sorry, Sir."

"So many slip-ups? As the good little soldier that you are, you should be used to following orders, and only acting after you've been given an order," he rasped into her ear, biting her earlobe sharply, and was satisfied when she whimpered softly.

"I know, Sir, it was an automatic reaction. I meant no disrespect," she replied.

"I trust it won't happen again then."

"Yes, Sir." Her voice betrayed her growing arousal at their little power play and he smirked. She was pretty good at this considering the fact that she had never done this before. He could still remember the awkwardness the first time he had tried this with Sara. She had never really gotten into it, but even the first time exploring she had been unconsciously unwilling to follow his orders. Sam on the other hand was a natural – not surprising giving her military training. Still he was surprised by the extent of her willingness to completely follow his lead – and slightly overwhelmed by the amount of trust she put into him.

Even now, she barely moved an inch, although he could tell by the way her breath was coming shorter, she was getting visibly aroused. Slowly, he moved his hands to her lower back, pulling her hips into full contact with his own, letting her feel the growing bulge in his pants, and letting her to move her hips against him slightly.

Sam bit her lips, and focused on keeping her arms on his shoulders when he resumed the delightfully taunting task of exploring her skin with his mouth. Gently, he urged her to lean back against his steadying arms, to allow his lips access to her breasts and her belly. She was only supported by his arms, and if he dropped her now, this would end in a very awkward (and very hard to explain) accident. She knew, however, that he would not let her fall, and so she completely relaxed against his arms.

Amazed by how much she trusted him, he rewarded her obedience by placing his mouth on the peak of one of her breasts through the fabric of the top. This was far from being satisfying, he decided after a moment and shifted slightly.

"Okay, up…" he muttered against her collarbone and firmly steadied the young woman as she complied with his order. "Arms up," he ordered as he hooked his fingers under the hem of her top and then gently pulled it up and over her head, revealing the taut, creamy skin of her stomach.

Sam gasped, when his hands made contact with the bare skin, and started exploring and teasing her. She longed to feel him skin on skin. It wasn't fair that she had lost two items of clothing already, and he was still fully dressed.

"Sir…" she murmured urgently, slowly lowering her arms again – unsure of whether she was allowed to do so. He helped her by locking his fingers with hers and moving her hands behind her back, keeping them there, while he replied with a little humming sound that vibrated against her skin.

"Am I allowed to remove your shirt as well?"

He moved back from her, and looked up at her. "I'm not going to have sex with you. Not today," he announced warningly, and his resolve was seriously challenged when he saw the utter disappointment written all over her face. Then however, she surprised him by nodding and saying, "Yes Sir."

"Don't you want to know why?"

"You don't have to explain your reasons to me, Sir."

"Good little soldier, aren't you?" he rasped against her ear and bit her earlobe gently, before he turned her head and claimed her mouth in a deep, possessive kiss. She was being very good, and he fully intended to reward good behavior, so he finally placed her hands at his shirt, signaling her permission to take it off, and smirked. "Feel free…"

She smiled at him sexily and then removed the shirt by pulling it over his head, leaving his hair slightly ruffled. Damn, he was attractive, she thought quietly, while she admired his broad chest with its soft curly hair and the muscles of his stomach. Fascinatedly, she moved her hands to touch his chest, but his fingers around her wrists stopped her just in time.

"Ah!" he protested playfully. "Removing the shirt was granted; touching on the other hand…"

Damn, she really had to focus. "Permission to touch you, Sir?"

"Denied," he replied with a vicious gleam in his eyes, and pulled her into another searing kiss fully meant to increase her frustration. He longed for her to touch him, but if he was honest with himself, once she did touch him, he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to control himself. He had just wanted her for too long, and the way with which she absolutely gave herself over to him – the trust she showed – was more than enough to test his restraint.

He moved his hands so he could guide her upper body to come in full contact with his, and swallowed the needy little moan that escaped her lips. When he finally released her mouth, it took her a moment to open her eyes and regain control of her breath, before she looked at him, and whispered, "Please, Sir" against his mouth in the sexiest tone that he had ever heard coming from her lips.

The thought of giving in to her request was alluring, and so he finally leaned back against the couch, and looked at her deliciously disheveled looking form. "Touch me."

Her hands were on him almost instantly, exploring, teasing, and gently caressing the skin of his chest and his upper belly, while she leaned down, hovering her lips as closely as she could above his without touching. She enjoyed the momentary power that she held over him, when she saw his eyes close at the touch, and his head fall back against the couch.

Her lips grazed his neatly shaven cheek, and then ran down his throat. The scent of him engulfed her, and she knew she wanted more of him. Maybe she would manage to seduce him into breaking his earlier promise of not having sex with her?

Seductively, she ground her hips against his now very evident erection through the fabric of his jeans, and that was when his eyes shot open, and he grabbed on to her hips, stilling them in a steel grip while he scanned her face with a sexily dark expression standing in his eyes.

"Sam…" he warned and she smiled at him mock-innocently.

"Sir?"

Leave it up to her to make the most insubordinate action look like an act of complete obedience. He smirked and leaned in to whisper in her ear. "We're done for today."

"What?" she asked, her eyes growing wide.

"Get dressed."

"Sir!"

"Are you disobeying an order?" he asked and raised his eyebrows with a slight warning visible in his eyes.

At the last moment, Sam could stop herself from saucily asking whether it would get her laid if she did, and cleared her throat. "Of course not, Sir."

With those words, she moved off of him and grabbed her tank top and the blouse from the couch to get dressed. She was getting frustrated to the point of feeling outright rebellious. She had thought that he was kidding earlier when he had announced that he wouldn't sleep with her. But it seemed he really wasn't going to.

Great. She had come here hoping to finally release the sexual tension between them, and instead it had increased exponentially.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, sure." Sam replied somewhat curtly, and Jack couldn't help but smirk. Once he was wearing his own shirt again, her went to stand behind her, and started kissing her neck gently.

"I will do you a favor and overlook that last rather snarky remark. You were good today… think we can take it a level farther next Friday?" he asked seductively, and Sam closed her eyes, leaning ever so slightly into him.

"I am more than fine to take it to the next level today… Sir," Sam replied slightly, and the way she almost purred the word 'Sir' made him want to push her up the nearest wall, and give her what she was asking for.

Damn, he had to be careful around her. He cleared his throat. "It seems hardly appropriate to jump right into that."

"Appropriate?" Sam giggled softly and Jack raised his eyebrows.

"Something funny?" he asked wryly and ceased his tender caresses of her neck.

"No, Sir… not at all. I just don't think any of what we did here today was appropriate," she joked and he smiled against her skin.

"Would you like pizza?" She turned around in his arms with a confused look, and he looked at her somewhat awkwardly. "Well… I just got to make out with you, the least I can do is take you out for dinner."

That made Sam smile softly. She had always suspected that deep inside of him he was a gentleman – even if he would never admit it – and his offer just confirmed her suspicion. "I'd love to have dinner with you, Sir."

He returned her smile and brushed his thumb over her lips gently. The ice was broken. The initial awkwardness was gone. This was going to be a lot of fun.


End file.
